My Christmas Prince Academia
by 1bluejay2u
Summary: I wrote this for my partner and am drunk. Hope you like. Cemento is cementoss and jeans is best jeanist. Posted in chapters but writer has finished whole story will be completed don't worry bb **Update: I am sober now. figured i would give a little more context for this story. First, a little about me: I love Cementoss. I also think nomu is p hot, amirite? this is a v serious story
1. Chapter 1: Jeans' big break

_Jeans,_

_ First of all, the coffee you gave me yesterday was SHIT! Learn the difference between oat milk and almond milk, you plebian._

Jeans sighed. Being a junior editor came with a lot of grunt work and debasement. Honestly, it was bizarre that a pro hero with his own agency and multiple graduate degrees in fiber sciences would subject himself to it. He certainly wasn't taking this gig for the money and a career in media had never been a major goal of his. Truthfully, the only motivation he had to continue working at the magazine was that it fit into the plot of this story.

_Anyway, soooo I know you just mentioned in your internal monologue New lead at UA_

The email notification lit up his laptop and Jeans practically jumped out of his denim pajamas. He had been waiting for a new assignment from the fashion/pop culture magazine he worked for: Beep Boop. Could this be the big break he was hoping for?

_that you're a junior __editor__, but for the sake of setting up the central conflict, I need you to act as a __reporter__ to cover a lead at UA. I'm sure you heard that the king of Taint-lia, a totally real and not made up, vaguely European nation, passed away yesterday. Now, they need to find a new ruler by Christmas day. The only problem is the king had no children, so there are no heirs to the throne. Or at least… that's what they thought. Rumor has it, the king fathered an illegitimate son who is currently employed as a teacher at UA! Taint-lia is sending their own representatives to the school to search for the missing prince, and I want you to be on the scene so we can get the exclusive scoop on this bombshell story! I don't know what this has to do with fashion or pop culture, but I don't care bc this is barely a real magazine. I guess we need an actual article to supplement all the "which homemade kombucha fungus strain are you?" and "your star sign will predict what climate change catastrophe will destroy your hometown" quizzes._

_Figure out who the king's descendant is quickly, got it?!_

_My money is on Allmight, so focus on him._

_Yours with exposition,_

_Intimidating Magazine Boss Lady_

Jeans gasped as he read the message. Could this really be true? Was there a member of Taint-lia's royal family at UA, his alma mater?

And his boss said she thought it was Allmight. He certainly fit the description of a dashing monarch. Could this be Jeans' chance to live out a longtime fantasy of his?

Would Jeans finally find his Christmas prince?

Before he could completely give himself over to his daydreams, he heard a loud, long fart sound coming from the bathroom, followed by a cry of agony.

"Dear god! I can't stop it from gushing out of me, it's too powerful!"

Jeans smiled to himself. Ever since he moved in, Cemento was creating quite the stir in the apartment. And last night had been "chili fest" (an unofficial holiday during which the modern literature teacher challenged himself to eat as many different kinds of chili as he could find on the street in under an hour), so there were bound to be fireworks (brown, stinky ones) this morning.

Jeans got up to gently knock on the bathroom door.

"Hey, Ken, whenever you're ready I laid out an unopened bottle of tums on your bed."

There was a brief pause before the man grunted a strained reply.

"Thank you, Jeans. I really, argh, appreciate that."

Jeans smiled as he heard the loud plops and splashes coming from behind the door. Ken certainly brought a lot of…spirit to their humble abode.

With a new spring in his step, Jeans made his way to the common space of the apartment. He was pleased to see how tidy it was. He was a precise and neat man, but knew he owed the pleasantness of the atmosphere before him to his other roommate, James.

Their quirk was "aesthetics" and they could make any room they entered both visually pleasing and comfortable with a simple snap of their fingers. Their keen eye combined with Jeans' own fashion sense made their apartment an example of impeccable taste (even if it usually smelled like crap).

When Jeans turned to the kitchen, he found James cooking eggs with their new beau, Nomu. They laughed as the yoke broke in the pan, while Nomu watched with his vacant eyes.

"Oh dear, I can be such a clutz, can't I, babe?"

James squeezed Nomu's arm, which elicited no reaction from the creature.

"You're too sweet!"

They pulled his face down to plant a kiss on his cheek, at which Nomu released a guttural groan. Jeans was surprised, as he had never heard the guy make a sound before.

"Oh, Nomu, always such a jokester. You better stop being so naughty, mister, or I'll have to-"

"Ahem,"

Jeans cleared his throat, deciding that this was a good time to announce his presence, lest he see something that he could not un-see.

"Hey, good morning, Jeans! Nomu and I were just making breakfast, would you like to join us? We have plenty of eggs to share."

James smiled warmly at Jeans, waving the spatula in their hand at him. The pants-themed hero found himself unable to contain his grin. James had an infectious positive energy about them. When they were enthusiastic about something, it was difficult not to feel giddy by association.

"Sure, why not? I'm going to need a good breakfast this morning. I have a new assignment for the magazine, and I have a feeling it's going to take a lot out of me."

James placed a plate with two fried eggs on it in front of him before raising one of their brows questioningly.

"Oh, and why would that be?"

Jeans looked down at his meal, hoping to hide the blush creeping onto his cheeks with the insanely high denim collar he insisted on having on every single one of his garments, even his pajamas.

"I guess I've just been waiting for this opportunity for a while. I have to give it my all, but also prevent my heart from being ripped to shreds like the muslin of a failed avant-garde challenge design on project runway."

Oh no, had he revealed too much with that melodramatic and oddly specific simile?

Judging from the concerned look James gave him, yes he had.

"Hm, it sounds like you're putting a lot of pressure on yourself with this. I don't know if you want my advice right now, but I think you should vent a bit. It would probably help to take some of that burden off your shoulders if you told us what's going on. Nomu is actually a really great listener, better than anyone else I've dated that's for sure! You should try talking to him!"

With that, they stepped to the side, putting Jeans face-to-face with their giant, mutated boyfriend. He stared into Nomu's dead eyes, which poked out from the sides of his exposed, throbbing brain, and found himself letting his guard down. Maybe, James was right. Besides, how could he remain closed off when looking at a face like Nomu's, with that expressionless beak and those giant, pointy teeth? Despite himself, he found his roommate's partner kind of handsome in a rugged and mysterious way.

"Ugh, fine, if you insist. So, I got this lead that the heir to Taint-lia's throne is working at UA and the kingdom is trying to find him by Christmas, which is only two days away of course! Everybody thinks it's Allmight right now, but there's no definite proof yet. Anyway, I have to go stay at UA for the next few days to see how everything unfolds and write a story for the magazine. But to do that, I'm going to have to get close to whoever the successor is and, well…it's been my dream ever since I was a little boy to meet and fall in love with my Christmas prince. Every year, I watch the Hallmark channel and wait for my own cliché holiday romance, but now that it's actually within arm's reach, I guess I'm scared. What if the prince isn't interested in me? What if he doesn't like denim? Or worse…what if he's a heterosexual?"

James gasped at that last part, seemingly unable to keep from butting into the conversation.

"Hey, don't say that, Jeans! Look, I think this all sounds very lovely and wonderful! Maybe I'm just a sucker for romance- I did cry at the end of one very bad Netflix romcom that shall not be mentioned here- but I believe it will all work out for you! Go and get yourself that prince!"

Jeans' heart rose at his roommate's encouragement.

"Thanks, James. What do you think, Nomu?"

The giant creature stared blankly at him as if he hadn't heard the question. But Jeans knew that deep down James' lover was rooting for him too.

"Nomu, you are a man of few words but much sentiment. James was lucky to find you, because if they hadn't, I would have snatched you up for myself."

"Hey, Jeans, you keep your prince and stay away from my Nomu, got it?"

They planted a firm kiss on Nomu's large beak before glaring at Jeans in a mock sense of jealousy.

The two roommates laughed as a foul odor wafted into the room. Jeans turned around to see Cemento standing in the doorway, looking sheepishly at his feet (or what would have been his feet if his legs were not merely large blocks of cement).

"Uh, hey, Jeans. I heard you were heading to UA. Do you think you could give me a ride? I would love to avoid taking the bus if possible. I had an accident on it last week and the driver threatened to have me banned."

"Of course, Cemento, it would be my pleasure. Just let me get dressed, then we can head out together."

With that, he bid James and Nomu adieu and began the thirty-minute process of donning his various denim body suits and fastening the many belts that kept them up.

With a fresh pair of obscenely uncomfortable denim boxer briefs pinching his balls and a zipped-up face fly covering his mouth, he stepped into the sunlight, ready for whatever this assignment would bring him.

He just hoped that by the end of this story, there would be a Christmas prince's lips pressed against his mouth crotch.

When they arrived at UA, Jeans found that the entire faculty was waiting in the teacher's lounge already. No doubt everyone had been rousted from their beds early that morning to prepare for the arrival of Taint-lia's attaches.

"Hey, Ken?"

Jeans turned to his cement block companion, who walked beside him through the doorway, squeezing him against the frame for a moment, which lead to a silent, but deadly cloud of gas eking out of the teacher's asshole.

"Yeah?"

"I meant to ask, why aren't you living in the dorms with everyone else? I thought your boss wanted everyone on campus 24/7 for the time being."

Cemento shook his head sadly.

"Well, I was supposed to move in when everyone else did, but the ventilation system wasn't strong enough to withstand my gas. I almost killed a couple of the students living in the dorm I was supposed to supervise after eating salmon for dinner one night, so they gave me permission to live off campus. Plus, Nezu trusts me. Information isn't what's leaking out of me, if you know what I mean."

Cemento and Jeans grinned at each other. His roommate was fairly serious most of the time, so it was nice to see him let his guard down, even if that meant his anal sphincter relaxed and let out another stream of diarrhea.

It was this accident that alerted the UA faculty of their arrival.

Nezu covered his nose with his paw before greeting the two heroes.

"Hello, Cemento and Jeans! It is so good to see you! Ken, I hope you don't mind, but I took it upon myself to set up headset for you to use in the bathroom so that you could still interact with our guests without….offending their sensibilities."

Cemento raised a hand.

"Say no more, principal, I understand completely. I'll take my leave."

With one last high-pitched fart, Ken exited the room to take his place in the quarantined bathroom stall they specially dedicated to him.

Once he was gone, the entire staff exhaled- finally able to stop holding their breaths- and Nezu came forward to shake Jeans' hand.

"Jeans, I'm so happy to be working with you on this. When Bingo Bongo said they were sending a reporter, I was skeptical, but as soon as they told me it was you, I gave them full access to our campus, including our confidential files, future plans, and secret hideout locations."

Jeans shifted uncomfortably under the tiny creature's intense gaze.

"Um, do you really think that was advisable, Nezu? We really don't need that much information to write this story."

Nezu laughed maniacally.

"It's just top-secret information that I'm releasing to the public! I don't see how anything could go wrong! Anyway, I suppose you know all the teachers, but feel free to mingle and get acquainted with them while we wait for the arrival of Taint-lia's representatives. I told them you were coming so they all know to cooperate with you completely!"

With that, he scurried off to the door to peak out through the crack underneath it, excitedly looking for his guests.

Jeans scanned the room, not letting his gaze linger on the one man he really wanted to look at: Allmight. Instead, he ignored the giant, reddish, blueish blob and turned his attention to the man's coworkers.

First, he saw Snipe and Ectoplasm chatting with Thirteen and Power-Loader at their desks in the corner. They seemed to actually be grading papers and working on lesson plans right now, which Jeans couldn't help but think was incredibly lame.

Classic background characters, amirite?

Off to the left, there was Vlad King, one of the other freshman teachers, alternating between licking his own asshole and biting on the jerky treats one of his colleagues must have left for him.

Jeans shook his head at the vulgarity of it. If you were going to lick your asshole in public, at least do it right. The man sat there going ham with absolutely no technique, which Jeans could not stand. There was a proper method for everything, including non-erotically eating your own ass.

Finally, on the couch, the only three relevant teachers to the story besides Allmight conveniently sat together, looking every bit as disgraceful as Jeans expected.

Eraserhead, Present Mic, and Midnight would not have been on his radar at all if Present Mic wasn't the other top contender for being the long-lost heir.

As the loud man sat in front of him, chewing cotton candy with his mouth open, while simultaneously licking the waxy remnants of dissolved sugar off his fingers, Jeans had a hard time imagining him as any type of royalty. But he supposed he had to follow every lead he had.

On one side of Present Mic sat his longtime friend, Midnight, who was looking as tacky as ever in a skin-tight satin blouse, clearly meant to impress the visiting dignitaries. Ugh, in the words of the great Michael kohrs, No ONE should ever wear tight satin. Yuck.

If only she would let him give her a makeover, Jeans was sure Midnight could rock a tasteful Canadian tuxedo if she just let him put her into one of his designs.

Present Mic's _other_ friend on the other hand…

On the opposite side of the sticky, potential prince -who was now shouting about how much he loved the "cinematic masterpiece" (his words, no one else's) Cars 3 while flailing his arms around- sat the ever disheveled Eraserhead.

He was bundled up in a yellow sleeping bag, his sunken eyes only half open. Despite, his apparent disinterest however, his beady little pupils were fixed on Present Mic, clearly hanging onto every word he said (or screamed),

"**ANYWAY, AS I WAS SAYING, THIS IS WHY THE CARS CINEMATIC UNIVERSE IS MORE EXPANSIVE AND BETTER CRAFTED THAN THE MARVEL ONE…"**

Dear god, only one thing in the world was powerful enough to make someone interested in such uncultured dribble…

Love.

It was no secret in the hero community that Aizawa had been head over heels for his best friend since the two were in school together. In fact, they'd been in Jeans' graduating class and even in their first year, he remembered how Eraserhead had followed Present Mic around like a lost puppy.

It would have been cute, if it wasn't so pathetic. Or if Aizawa hadn't been so repulsive.

Between the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and the smattering of chin hairs that had never developed beyond the pre-pubescent neck-beard stage, Eraserhead was not a particularly attractive man. Jeans did not like to write anyone off, but he felt as though even his Queer Eye style magic would not be enough to help that absolute scrub out. He needed way more than a French tuck and some avocado-themed recipes to save him.

It was then, that Aizawa pried his eyes from the sputum flying out of Present Mic's mouth long enough to look over at Jeans. The teacher gazed at him for just a split second, but it still managed to take him off guard. It dragged him out of his thoughts and brought him back to the situation at hand.

Why had he even wasted so much time looking at the uggos seated before him? Jeans swore he wouldn't waste another moment thinking about any of them, _especially_ (underlined and italicized in a definitely-not-foreshadowing way) not Eraserhead.

He had been avoiding looking at his real objective for fear that his heart would beat out of his chest and he would embarrass himself, but he couldn't put off taking in the sight of Allmight any longer.

When he turned to find his jacked, roided-out Adonis, he found the beefy man standing awkwardly against the wall, his hand shoved firmly into the back of his hero costume, picking a wedgy. By the look of the grimace on the Symbol of Peace's face, Jeans guessed it had to be a deep one.

And how could it not be, Jeans thought, as he took in those huge, spandex-clad buttcheeks. Jeans smiled to himself as he thought about how deep Allmight's buttcrack must have been.

Suddenly reminded of how tight his denim suit was, Jeans realized he had to stop picturing the number one hero's asscrack, lest he experience his own pants-related faux-pas.

When Allmight pulled his hand out of the waistband of his leggings and gave it a tentative sniff (recoiling at whatever scent he found there) Jeans decided it would be the perfect moment to approach him. Even after years of working in the same echelon of hero society, they had never formally met. Jeans admired Allmight but never became a stan in the way that so many others in their profession had. Of course, that was before knowing he could be a Christmas Prince. Well, not just any Christmas prince, but _his_ Christmas prince.

His heart thumped heavily beneath the many layers of blue-dyed, aged cotton that covered his chest and he had to remind himself that, just like the author's laundry, he would never fold.

Oh well, it was now or never…

Suddenly, the door to the lounge swung open with a loud thud.

Nezu, who had been looking through the crack in the door, fell back on his tiny butt and gave an indignant squeak before rising to his feet (paws?) at the sight of the two figures who just crossed the threshold.

One of them was a short, crusty-looking guy with grey hair and a number of weird stone hands covering his face, neck and arms (not sus at all) and the other was a nine-foot tall nebulous cloud of darkness wearing a three-piece suit.

This completely NOT-evil-looking pair had to be the dignitaries from Taint-lia!

As the teachers stood at attention, waiting to be introduced, Nezu cheerfully greeted the guests, "Hello, my good sirs. You must be our guests from Taint-lia. How was your trip?"

The hand-man began scratching his neck furiously, fleas and bits of dead skin flying off him. This guy was exactly his roommate James' type, Jeans thought to himself.

He responded to the principal in a slightly deranged-sounding tone, "Ah yes, we are the guests from Ball-sack-topia-"

"It's Taint-lia."

Hand-man's companion leaned in and not-so-subtly whispered into his friend's ear. Hand-man shook his head before licking his insanely chapped lips. Yep, definitely James' type.

"Ah yes, _Taint-lia_. That's it. And that's definitely who we are. We're just here looking for our kingdom's next ruler, we have no other evil, ulterior motive that's for sure."

Nezu nodded, seemingly satisfied by that introduction.

"That checks out with me. What are your names?"

Hand-man laughed in an unhinged manner before responding.

"Well, my name is Shigaraki, and this is my associate Kurogiri, but I call him daddy. Not because we are actually related but because we-"

"Yeah I think we get it."

Jeans was surprised to hear Eraserhead's voice chiming in laden with exasperation. He had never really known the man to speak up for himself before. As Present Mic's loyal toady, he generally didn't get to say much.

Nevertheless, his response did not stop the dignitary from finishing his sentiment, much to everyone's dismay (except Midnight, who was messy and lived for this sort of drama).

Hand-man cleared his throat before continuing in a slightly louder voice, "-Because we fuck. Now where is Allmight? We heard that he was the one who is most likely the heir to our throne, so we would like to kill-ahem I mean, meet him."

Nezu nodded enthusiastically, "Ah yes, that's a very understandable mix-up. Kill and meet are such similar words, anyone could have misspoken like that!"

At that moment, Midnight shot forward.

"Hey, wait a second!"

Silence fell over the faculty lounge and everyone looked at her. She glared at the newcomers with no small amount of hostility. Perhaps Midnight was not as convinced about the innocence of Shigaraki's mistake as her boss had been. She addressed him and his associate in a stern tone.

"Don't forget about Present Mic! He very well could be the prince too! Since all the other male teachers are weird alien-monster things, it's gotta be one of them. Or I mean, I guess it could be Aizawa too, but-"

At that, Midnight and all her coworkers burst into raucous laughter at the thought of Eraserhead as the Christmas Prince. Jeans almost joined in, until he caught sight of Aizawa's expression. He rolled his eyes, as if unaffected, but he looked almost…sad? Was that even possible? Did he have any feelings besides exhaustion and irritability?

Jeans felt a pang of pity grow in his chest, before shaking his head and turning back to Allmight, who was blushing under the piercing gaze of the two dignitaries.

"Uh, yes, I think we should definitely consider Mic as well. That only seems fair." The large man meekly stated.

Shigaraki rolled his eyes, before conceding.

"Fine. If Allmight- I mean that man who we weren't introduced to yet and have no idea who he is, says we should consider this other guy, too, then we will."

At that, Allmight perked up and shouted his own name at the top of his lungs.

"Huzzah, I am Allmight."

Present Mic, not to be outdone, stood up and screamed his own introduction.

"**AND I AM PRESENT MIC."**

Kurogiri nodded at both of them.

"It's nice to meet you both-" he said coolly, before being interrupted by his partner.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now, we're gonna need both of you, but especially Allmight, to come with us and answer some questions so we can learn more about you and figure out if you're really the festivus duke or whatever."

"Christmas prince."

Nezu piped in enthusiastically, to which Shigaraki responded impatiently.

"Yes, yes, that. Now, come along, Allmight. I'm going to need you to tell me some basic information about yourself, like your birthday, hobbies, mother's maiden name, teaching schedule, greatest weaknesses, what sort of weapon would be able to kill you, you know that stuff."

Allmight nodded.

"Okay, sure can do. I'll follow you to whatever dark, secluded second location you take me too!"

With that, he began to follow the dignitaries out. Present Mic was at their heels, shouting after them.

"**HEY DON'T FORGET ABOUT ME! I CAN GIVE YOU INFORMATION TOO! YOU WANT MY SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER? OR MY ATM PIN? IT'S 1234, IN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING!"**

Soon, the door was closed behind the two pro-heroes and the visitors from Taint-lia. The other faculty members began milling about in excitement, chattering away as they gathered their belongings for the first classes of the day.

Jeans wanted to join in their eagerness, but something stopped him.

He was angry at himself for missing his opportunity to introduce himself to Allmight. After all, if this man really was his potential soulmate and obvious love interest, he wanted to get their romance started as quickly as possible. He hated all that "will they or won't they" crap and even though he was sure he'd get another chance to meet him, Jeans couldn't stand the suspense.

Besides that, though, there was a sense of uneasiness in his gut that he couldn't ignore. Something seemed off about those dignitaries. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the way they acted made him feel on edge.

Oh well, if none of the other heroes noticed it, then-

"Hey, did those guys seem a little off to you?"

For the second time that day, Jeans nearly jumped out of his denim. When he turned, he found himself face-to-face with Aizawa, who stared at him with suspicion lurking behind his cold eyes.

"Uh, maybe a little. Why?"

Jeans hadn't spoken to Aizawa since their high school graduation, so it seemed odd that the man would approach him rather than the colleagues he worked with every day, but something about the way Eraserhead gazed intently at the door through which his best friend had just walked away with the two shady Taint-lians told Jeans that he meant business.

"I noticed it too, when I vibe checked them. No one else seemed to pick up on it though. Unfortunately, I don't think anyone will believe me if I try to warn them. Ever since I convinced everyone that Cats the Musical was perfectly suited to being adapted into a feature film and that we should all spend thirteen dollars each on a ticket to see it at the movies, people around here haven't really trusted my instincts. I may have been sorely mistaken about that, but I don't think I'm wrong this time."

Jeans shuddered at Aizawa's clear lack of taste, but found himself nodding in agreement. Eraserhead may have been a slob with no class, but if someone he had absolutely nothing in common with also believed the dignitaries were up to no good, then maybe there was some merit to his initial suspicion after all.

"Aizawa, I don't think you're wrong about this either."

Eraserhead turned to him, a slightly taken aback expression crossing his features, before they once again fell slack.

"Yeah, okay, so should we, uh, do something?"

Jeans rolled his eyes, a snide remark slipping from his lips before he could stop himself.

"No, we should definitely do nothing and just let the two potential Christmas princes hang out alone with those thugs who are so mediocre they make a middle school production of Shrek the Musical seem like it could win a Tony."

To his surprise, Aizawa smiled. It was creepy and kind of gross, but despite his obvious revulsion, heat rose to Jeans' face.

Heat? On his face? Was he ill? What was coming over him?

"Alright, Jeans, I was a bit skeptical, but now I think we could actually work well together. Wanna come up with a strategy with me?"

Skeptical?! Jeans felt an indignant lump rise in his throat. He worked well with everyone! How could this narcoleptic, walking advertisement for poor posture be worried about working with him? If anyone was difficult to work with, it was Eraserhead!

But he would have to save that frustration for another time. If he ever wanted his chance to meet his Christmas Prince, he'd have to act now.

"Sure, I suppose. Don't you have to teach, though?"

Eraserhead shook his head and rolled up his sleeping bag, before leading Jeans to his desk.

"Nah. Honestly, usually I just nap during class anyway. My teaching style is more 'free-range', if you know what I mean."

"Hmph, your students must be so lucky."

Aizawa glared up at him.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing, I'm sure you're an incredible instructor."

Jeans avoided the man's death stare by looking out the window. As he gazed over the grounds, he found himself turning over the sequence of events from the past few minutes in his mind. One minute he had been spraying Cemento with Lysol before exiting his Prius in the parking lot, his heart full of hope at all the possibilities the coming day contained, then the next two creepers had stolen his chance at the perfect meet-cute with Allmight.

Whether the guests from Taint-lia were villains or not, Jeans was sure he'd hold a grudge against them for a long time. After all, they were the reason he was hanging out with Aizawa (the crustiest, classless, least holiday-romance-love-interest-like human being in existence) instead of his Christmas Prince.

And he was going to make them pay.


	2. Chapter 2: Bakugo's feminism club

All morning, Jeans and Aizawa sat hunched over Eraserhead's computer in the faculty lounge, brainstorming a strategy for rescuing the Christmas princes.

Since Aizawa wasn't taken seriously by his colleagues and Jeans was an outsider as a visiting journalist, they decided the first order of business would be to get indisputable evidence that Shigaraki and his "daddy" were bad guys to show to the rest of the faculty. Otherwise, any attempt they made at getting Allmight and Present Mic away from them would be thwarted by Nezu and his staff, who all seemed utterly charmed by the two guests.

They created a Google Doc to list their ideas on, and for a while it looked pretty bleak:

Lock them in Cemento's bathroom until they confess to get away from the stench (not a bad idea, but highly unethical as it would be akin to torture due to the poor ventilation in there)

Ask them to point out Taint-lia on a map, catch them in the lie when they can't (fine, but doesn't really prove anything, plus neither of them knew where Taint-lia was on the map either)

Force them to watch the Cats movie on a loop until they confess (again, torture)

Befriend them gradually, then make them fall in love with us and reveal their true identities at the romantic climax (would take too long, even with Jeans' smooth moves, plus while Kurogiri was a straight up sex god, neither of them wanted to kiss Shigaraki and someone would have to in this plan)

Sometime during second period, Aizawa- a man of few words, Jeans came to learn-

grunted and began to type another bullet point:

Make them drink kombucha/skim milk cocktails until…

"God, Aizawa, can you stop suggesting torture?"

Eraserhead shook his head, looking sullen.

"Well, it's not like your ideas are any better, Pants."

Jeans was fuming. He was literally straining himself to keep from shouting at his partner

And at this rate, he would sweat through his four layers of denim.

"For the last time, my name is _Jeans. _Are you a child? And at least my ideas wouldn't involve us getting our licenses revoked."

"Well at least _my _ideas would work, Jorts."

Jeans couldn't keep his voice level after that insult.

"How dare you compare me to such an egregious fashion offense! I'll have you know-"

His retort was interrupted by screams and explosions coming from down the hall.

At the sound of trouble, Jeans leapt to his feet. Was that gross hand-man hurting his Christmas prince?

"Hey, take it easy, Jeans. That was probably just my class. I'm sure nothing bad has happened to Allmight or Present Mic, yet."

Jeans jumped a little. It was the first time in hours that Eraserhead had used his actual name and he had not been expecting that calm, almost comforting tone to emerge from his mouth. The most jarring part of the interaction though, was when Aizawa gently placed his hand on Jeans' denim-clad elbow, patting it slightly. It was an awkward gesture, but Jeans appreciated the sentiment behind it. Once again, he inexplicably felt heat rise to his face.

Jeans was further surprised when Aizawa did not get up to go to his class, rather pulling open YouTube in another tab and searching for "Class 1A UA livestream". Once the video feed loaded, it was clear that the sound had come from one of Eraserhead's students (Bakugo) attacking another one (some little bitch baby with green hair who couldn't stop crying) over a perceived slight. Another student was trying to break it up by flailing his arms around like a robot.

"Just like I thought. I'll send Cemento in there to calm them down."

Just as Aizawa texted Ken telling him to head to his class, an idea dawned on Jeans.

He grabbed Eraserhead's shoulders and turned his body so that it faced him. The other man looked slightly startled, but not as aggrieved as Jeans' had been expecting him to be, which for some reason, gave the denim-hero a warm and fluttery feeling in his stomach, similar to that time he caught Cemento's stomach bug last month.

"Aizawa, are there livestreams of all the rooms in UA?"

Eraserhead narrowed his eyes and nodded.

"Uh yeah, Nezu set them up a couple of months ago. He thought it would be a good idea to bring the school some 'clout'. He also set up a faculty tik tok account and he makes us create at least one meme per week. Not that we get paid enough for-"

"Aizawa, don't you see?! We could use these livestreams to locate Shigaraki and Kurogiri! Then, we could watch what they're doing and catch them if they do anything shady to Allmight and Present Mic!"

Eraserhead's eyes widened and he nodded enthusiastically, his hands reaching up to grip Jeans' arms.

"Jeans, that's brilliant! I can't believe I didn't think of that earlier, considering we had the technology, why didn't we use it before? But oh well, now we can finally make some progress!"

The two men looked at each other for a moment longer than was appropriate- Jeans finding himself lost in Aizawa's sunken, blank eyes for said moment- before he pulled away abruptly and straightened up. Carefully fixing the cuffs on his arm jeans, he spoke in as gruff a tone as he could muster.

"Yes, Eraserhead, I must say it's kind of ridiculous that you didn't think of this idea earlier. Your out-of-character stupidity seems almost like a convenient way to enable us to spend more time together in this story or something. Plus, I thought UA was worried about security, isn't it kind of foolish for Nezu to be uploading livestreams of your school to the internet?"

Aizawa slumped back in his chair, his mouth scrunched up as he reflected on Jeans' question. Jeans glanced at his expression out of the corner of his eye, but tried not to let his gaze linger for too long.

Perhaps Eraserhead had spiked the tea he gave him earlier with something or maybe the mission was messing with his head, because he thought the other hero looked almost…cute right now.

Ugh, Jeans, get it together. He needed to keep his head in the game or he would never get a chance to meet his Christmas Prince.

"Yeah, I guess that's a valid point. But anyway, it's going to help us now, so let's start checking all the video feeds."

For the next few hours the two men combed through the video feeds until finally they found the two "dignitaries" and Allmight and Present Mic holed up in one of the empty third floor classrooms.

Jeans audibly sighed in relief when he realized the two potential princes hadn't been harmed. It seemed that they were still just talking to Shigaraki and Kurogiri, who were asking Allmight a lot of invasive personal questions. The number 1 hero, for his part, responded with grace and dignity.

Ah, so stoic, Jeans thought to himself. What a noble, good-hearted and…boring hero.

Wait, boring? He couldn't be thinking things like that about Allmight! This was most likely his Christmas prince after all! What had gotten into him?

When he turned to Aizawa, he noticed how his fellow hero's brow was also furrowed. He appeared just as lost in thought as Jeans was and his eyes were fixed on the screen.

It was clear what was weighing on Eraserhead.

Jeans once again felt a pang of pity in his heart for the unkempt blob of a human being that sat next to him, but this time there was something else there, an uglier feeling…

He scanned Aizawa's desk and his eyes fell on a framed photograph in the corner. He reached over and picked it up, drawing Eraserhead out of his trance.

"Hey, why are you touching my stuff?"

Jeans ignored his irritated companion's question and continued looking at the picture in his hands. It was of Present Mic and Eraserhead back in their UA days. Present Mic had his arm around Aizawa's shoulder and it was clear that the young "erasure" (whatever the fuck that meant) hero was trying to make an annoyed expression at his loud friend, but the only feelings his grim face portrayed were gushy, lovey-dovey ones. Present Mic had his other arm around Midnight, whose face was only partially in the frame.

"Midnight was supposed to be in this picture too."

Aizawa abruptly looked away, muttering something about the printer messing up and cutting her image off.

Jeans didn't buy it though. He could see where Aizawa himself must have cut the picture with scissors.

"Do you not have a photograph of just the two of you? You and Present Mic, I mean."

Aizawa looked down at his feet, clearly embarrassed, before shrugging.

"I guess not. I'm not really a picture-taking guy. It would be weird for me to ask…"

His voice trailed off and Jeans' sympathy for the pathetic man overrode whatever other feelings he was beginning to harbor towards the idea of Eraserhead's crush on his best friend.

"Well, hey, when this is all over, let me take one of you two together. I refuse to capture one where you look like…well, how you normally look, but if you let me help you get ready beforehand and then allow me to facetune you afterwards, I'm sure I can provide you with a somewhat decent photo of you and Present Mic."

Aizawa looked up at him, his lips parted as if he were about to speak, but he merely nodded, seemingly overcome with emotion.

Hm, Jeans thought to himself, for some reason when Eraserhead made that face, he was reminded of earlier when he had pictured Allmight's deep, moist buttcrack. Except this time, the boner wasn't in his pants, it was in his heart.

"Uh, thanks, Culottes, that means a lot."

Ugh, classic, Aizawa, always ruining a nice moment.

"Goddammit, Eraserhead, you really are such an immature-"

Once again, his response was interrupted, this time by the bell indicating that it was lunch. For the first time in hours, Aizawa leapt to his feet, shedding his sleeping bag like a sleep-deprived larva escaping its cocoon.

"Oh shit, I actually have somewhere to be."

Jeans scoffed.

"Ah, so your job couldn't motivate you to get off your ass, but lunch can?"

Aizawa shook his head, glaring at Jeans.

"No, it's not lunch. I don't owe you an explanation, just trust me that it's important, okay? Watch the feed till I get back."

Jeans was hurt at how casually Eraserhead could dismiss him. Not to mention the fact that there was no way he was going to listen to Shigaraki call Kurogiri "daddy" while Aizawa's dumb crush sprayed saliva all over everything by himself for an hour.

"Uh uh, whatever this important event is, I'm coming with you. We'll find a way to watch the feed during it. We have to stick together, it's only logical. What if something comes up and I need your help?"

And it was logical, wasn't it? Jeans couldn't help but feel like he was justifying his desire to go with Aizawa to himself as much as the other man. But, no, it made sense. He needed to work with Eraserhead to get closer to his Christmas Prince. That was still definitely his only focus. Right?

Aizawa sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Ugh, fine. Put the livestream on your phone then. I'll show you where the meeting is."

Jeans nodded, intrigued by what this mysterious meeting could possibly be about. He pulled out his phone and attempted to pull up the livestream, but kept receiving an error message.

"Um, I don't think I can…I, uh, I'm not very tech savvy. Can you-"

"Here, let me see that."

Without waiting for Jeans to finish his sentence, Aizawa came up behind him, leaning over his shoulder and bringing his arms around his body to grab the phone. Jeans shuddered a bit when Aizawa's fingers brushed against his. Must have just been drafty in this teacher's lounge. It would make sense after all. Nezu did not seem particularly concerned with his staff's wellbeing.

"There. Fixed it. Now that the livestream's up, come with me."

Aizawa quickly swung around and began walking out of the room. But was that…a hint of a blush on his cheeks?

No, it couldn't be.

Jeans scrambled to follow Eraserhead, who moved surprisingly quickly for someone who stood like they were the "before" picture in an ergonomic promotional video.

"Hey, where are we going?"

Without turning, Aizawa responded,

"Bakugo's feminism club."

Oh god, what had Jeans gotten himself into?

"So, today we're going to be revisiting Betty Friedan's _The Feminine_ _Mystique_, but this time analyzing it through a critical lens focused on racial injustice. After all, feminism that only works for white, middle class cis-women, isn't really feminism, right idiots?"

Bakugo glared down at Jeans and Aizawa from his spot at the podium in the front of the classroom. Jeans and Eraserhead were the only other ones in the room.

He turned to Aizawa and whispered in his ear,

"Is it usually just you two?"

Eraserhead shook his head.

"When Bakugo first approached me to be the faculty advisor for his club, I was a bit skeptical. But his passion often draws his classmates in. Plus, I'll send the pervy ones here for detention in the hopes that he can actually get through to them."

Jeans nodded, still not totally convinced.

"Uh, but do any actual girls ever come to feminism club?"

"Actually, Bakugo's feminism club is only for the boys in the class."

Jeans scoffed.

"That seems a little antithetical to its main focus, doesn't it?"

Aizawa shrugged and responded nonchalantly,

"Not really. This club was designed by Bakugo to reach out to other young men and promote their discussion of and involvement in the feminist movement. He thought it was unfair how the girls in the class constantly had to be the ones educating the boys and demanding their respect. They're always the ones who have to challenge the patriarchal power system even though they're also the ones who bear the brunt of its disadvantages. Therefore, he wanted to create an environment in which women and nonbinary people would not have to do the emotional labor of showing men their privileged position within our society. He exposes his male classmates to feminist theory by utilizing writings from women and trans people as well as listening to and then sharing the concerns of his female peers. The girls in his class have all been very supportive of his initiative and reported that from their perspective, it is making a dent in the culture of toxic masculinity in the hero program at this school."

Jeans stared from Eraserhead to Bakugo dumbfounded, having a difficult time wrapping his mind around how this could be the same kid that was screaming about how he wanted to kill everyone earlier.

"Hey, you two, stop whispering! It's time to get into critical gender theory and the dismantling of the harmful power structures that the second wave feminist movement contributed to."

A vein in Bakugo's forehead bulged out as he shouted at them. The boy certainly was… passionate.

Aizawa chuckled and shook his head.

"Hey, Bakugo, don't you see that we have a new member today? Why don't we do introductions first."

Bakugo sighed loudly, before responding with no small amount of aggravation.

"Ugh, fine. Please state your name, pronouns, and uh, favorite movie I guess. I'm Bakugo Katsuki AKA king explosion murder, my pronouns are he/him/his and my favorite movie is _Carol_. It's a beautiful expression of sapphic love, unmarred by the male gaze, without a tragic ending."

Aizawa went next,

"My name is Aizawa Shota AKA eraserhead, my pronouns are also he/him/his and my favorite movies are the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I know it's kind of lame, but…"

Eraserhead's voice trailed off and he looked at the ground. He was right, it was very lame, but there was something almost charming in the bashful way he admitted his dorkiness.

Bakugo angrily snapped,

"The lamest thing about those movies is the male-dominated perspective and lack of complex female characters. Despite that, though, I give them a pass only because they did that thing where that one lady got to say 'I am no man' and kill the monster and that was sick as fuck. Anyway, pants-guy, your turn."

Jeans suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Bakugo was a child after all. A rude, terrifying child, but still a child.

"Uh, okay, my name is Jeans. My pronouns are he/him/his and my favorite movie would honestly have to be any of the Hallmark Christmas movies. They're my guilty pleasure. What can I say? I love romance."

He turned to offer Aizawa a soft smile, hoping he would appreciate how Jeans also decided to be vulnerable, but found the man barely able to contain an amused smirk instead.

Was he laughing at him? After he had so generously refrained from attacking his taste after his own humiliating admission? The nerve!

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Before he could be too offended though, Bakugo was right up in his face, screaming at him.

"How dare you say Hallmark Christmas movies are your favorite in my club, you damn loser! Do you have any idea how anti-feminist those films are? Why does the woman always need to leave her high-powered job to find happiness, huh? Why does she need a man to be complete? The answer is: she DOESN'T, you shitstain! And look, in this club, we don't look down on content created by and for women. For too long, romance has been considered a non-serious genre because of the way we devalue art created for specifically female audiences, so don't go thinking there's anything wrong with a rom com. But the women in romances deserve to be fully fleshed-out people with hopes and desires of their own beyond getting married! I bet you don't think that women deserve to be given accurate and complex representations of themselves in the media, though, do you DICKHOLE? Have you even seen Greta Gerwig's new adaptation of _Little Women_? If you say no, I will literally murder you!"

Bakugo was grabbing his collar, absolutely going off at him. Jeans was frozen, half-afraid that the boy would blow him up, when he heard Aizawa snicker.

"Alright, calm down, Bakugo. I think you taught him his lesson."

Bakugo merely snarled in response like some kind of wild animal.

"I don't think that's good enough. Let me teach this misogynist a real lesson, Mr. Aizawa."

Bakugo raised his hand, as if to create an explosion, and Jeans brought his own fingers to his eye, desperately trying to protect his bang from the small brute, when suddenly the sparks from the boy's palms fizzled out. He turned to see Eraserhead using his quirk on the student, his suddenly stern eyes glowing red.

"I said calm down. I'm not going to let you blow up, khakis, over there."

All of a sudden, Jeans found himself tangled up in Aizawa's scarf as the other hero pulled him in towards his hunched body and away from Bakugo, who was still fuming.

Jeans would have been annoyed at the teacher for messing up his name again, but he was way too focused on how close he was to Eraserhead. If it hadn't been for his own pounding pulse drowning out the other sounds in the room, he was sure he would have been able to hear Aizawa's heartbeat.

He was startled by how disappointed he was when Eraserhead released him, stepping forward towards Bakugo.

"Have you gotten that out of your system?"

Bakugo sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Ugh, I guess. But if I find out that that guy is a TERF, I'm going to kill him."

Aizawa smiled and patted the disgruntled youth on the head.

"I would expect nothing less."

For the next thirty minutes, Jeans listened to Bakugo and Aizawa discuss the readings they had done on third-wave feminism and how to best support Tsu's new anti-harrassment initiative as male allies.

For all of the violence he displayed at the beginning, Jeans found himself charmed by the earnestness with which Bakugo discussed his allyship within the feminist movement. And he felt his heart soften with each small word or nod of encouragement that Aizawa gave his student.

Maybe Eraserhead wasn't so pathetic and repulsive, after all.

Once the meeting was over, the two walked back towards the faculty lounge, still monitoring the livestream. They travelled in silence for a moment, before Jeans broke it,

"Hey, you could have warned me about that kid, you know. I never would have brought up the Hallmark movies if I had known."

Aizawa shrugged, attempting to appear aloof, but Jeans thought he could see that faint smirk cross his lips again.

"Well, where would the fun in that have been?"

Jeans scoffed.

"Why don't you just kick me while I'm down? Talking about how much you enjoyed seeing me admit something embarrassing and then get beat up by a literal child for it."

At that, Aizawa really did smile. Jeans thought he was going to laugh, but instead he responded in a shy, almost sweet voice,

"I don't know. I didn't think it was embarrassing. While I agree with Bakugo's critiques of those movies, I think it's kind of…endearing that you like them. It makes you seem more human."

Jeans was taken aback at Eraserhead's sudden vulnerability. Where was this side of him coming from?

"Human? You mean you thought I was an entirely different species until you heard I liked cheesy romance films?"

Eraserhead shook his head, looking off into the distance with an amused expression on his face.

"No, I mean I just thought you were a total perfectionist all the time. I've seen your interviews and magazine features. Everything you do seems so calculated to fit with your image. I never thought you'd admit to enjoying something as kitschy as Hallmark movies, but I guess knowing even you take a break from being elegant and refined makes you more approachable."

Jeans paused for a moment, reflecting on Aizawa's comment. He certainly did like to show a certain side of himself to the public, but he never though about how that might make him seem slightly detached from the common man. Jeans had always thought of himself as someone who was easy to talk to and get along with, so knowing that someone might think of him as uppity or a snob did not sit well with him.

"Hmph, well excuse me for not being open to taking advice on approachability from the man who insists on having dishevelment be part of his hero costume. With your glare and those emo bangs hanging in your face, do you really think you're the most friendly-looking guy?"

Aizawa chuckled before shaking his head.

"I never said I was. That's the difference between you and me: I _know_ I'm not someone who's easy to be around and you don't."

Eraserhead had a smug look on his face as he held open the door for Jeans, further mocking him with an exaggerated bow as he allowed him to enter the faculty lounge first.

"Yeah, I'd say that's not the only difference. I don't think our standards of personal hygiene or taste are very equal, do you?"

Jeans shot back, but was surprised to find Aizawa had already sat down at the computer, his eyes glued to the livestream.

"Hey, Eraserhead, is something happening?"

Jeans leaned over Aizawa's shoulder, craning his neck to watch the figures on the screen sitting just as they had been minutes before, Present Mic shouting about how much he hated comedy while also listing off shows and movies he watched that were very clearly comedies, seemingly unaware of the irony in this.

As Jeans turned the volume dial on the desktop down, Aizawa abruptly spoke in a surprisingly wistful tone.

"Jeans, have you ever met someone who makes you forget about all the bad stuff? I mean, someone who you could just listen to all day, because the sound of their voice makes everything okay?"

Jeans watched Eraserhead gaze longingly at Present Mic and for a moment he forgot that he was there to meet his Christmas Prince. He forgot about his nerves and the possible villains threatening Allmight's life and his magazine boss and the diaper chafing his thighs (there was no way he'd leave home without it, considering how many belts and denim jumpsuits he'd have to get out of every time he had to pee). The only thing he could focus on was the slight crease in Aizawa's brow and the way he bit the inside of his lip and the bittersweet look in his bloodshot eyes.

But when he turned his own attention to the subject of Eraserhead's: Present Mic (who was now shamelessly picking his nose and eating it while defending the quality of Tommy Wiseau's acting in _The Room_, suggesting that the subtlety and nuance of the performance had gone over most people's heads) Jeans decided that no, he did not understand how Aizawa felt.

"No, I can't say I have. Though, I think it's very nice that your feelings for Present Mic allow you to see past his many flaws. Honestly, he's lucky to have you, I'm not sure who else would tolerate him with all his 'bad stuff'."

Aizawa turned and glared at him.

"Are you kidding me? Who wouldn't want to be with him? I'm the lucky one. It's not his flaws that anyone has to see past, it's mine. I mean, look at me, I'm a total scrub. And yet, he's still willing to be my friend. That's more than I deserve."

Jeans stood before the man dumbfounded once more, barely able to look him in the eyes. A few hours ago, Jeans would have whole-heartedly agreed that Aizawa was a scrub. He was, wasn't he?

But something about the way he said this made Jeans incredibly sad. He wanted to tell Eraserhead that he was wrong, but something stopped him. He never liked to admit he was wrong about something or someone, which was not normally an issue because Jeans rarely made any mistakes in the first place.

Before he could formulate any sort of response, Aizawa turned back to the monitor and folded his arms across his chest, before muttering,

"Why are you even still here, Jeans? Shouldn't you be off doing magazine shit right now? You know, taking pictures and conducting interviews?"

That actually wasn't a bad question. Why was Jeans still there? Nothing had happened on the livestream for hours. He could easily get some work done while he waited, but something wouldn't let him walk away from this. His sense of urgency with regards to this mission had to be related to his desire to meet his Christmas Prince. He couldn't think of ANY other possible reason. But still, he wasn't sure he believed it was just about Allmight anymore…

"Well, I, uh, you see…When I got assigned this story, I was convinced I'd meet the Christmas Prince I've dreamed of for years. I was sure it was fate. I guess I don't want to miss my chance to meet my own Hallmark holiday hunk, you know?"

Aizawa shook his head.

"Yeah, now it's my turn to not really get it. But, for the record, I think you and Allmight would actually make a really cute, royal couple."

He smirked at Jeans, but he could tell that Eraserhead really meant it.

Why did that make his heart sink? It was as if the heart-boner he had before was becoming flaccid.

"Haha, thanks, I guess."

Aizawa merely grunted and turned back to the monitor, before practically leaping out of his chair.

"Shit, Jeans, we've got to move now."

When Jeans turned to the monitor, he saw Kurogiri tying up an unconscious Allmight and Present Mic. They must have missed a lot during their emotionally-constipated conversation.

_"That's it, zaddy, tie them up nice and tightly now!"_

Shigaraki's voice crackled through the speaker. Yuck.

"Hey, mute that and come with me. We have to get Nezu and the others! It's time to rescue my friend and your Christmas Prince."

Without even looking at him, Aizawa grabbed Jeans' hand and began running with him towards the principal's office.

Jeans wrote the abrupt increase in his heartrate off to the fact that they were now sprinting into a dangerous situation filled with the potential for romance…between him and Allmight, of course.

Nobody else- especially not the totally unfashionable, uncouth, very much not-his-type hero holding his hand right now- was responsible for the pounding in his chest that was for sure.

But still, when Aizawa threaded his fingers through his, he almost forgot about the upcoming mission entirely.


	3. Chapter 3: Drama, romance, and more butt

"Hold it right there!"

As soon as Snipe shot through the lock on the third-floor classroom's door (at which Nezu bemoaned that that had been totally unnecessary since he had a master key), Aizawa hopped into action, restraining Shigaraki with his scarf and erasing his quirk before he got the chance to retaliate.

A shrill cry escaped from between the villain's chapped lips.

"Daddy, get us out of here!"

Jeans was hot on Eraserhead's heels and quickly restrained Kurogiri by the threads in his own suit before he could teleport any of them away.

"Not so fast, _daddy_. And please, next time wear something a little less cheap. I hate having to use these polyester fibers, they're gonna give me a rash."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jeans saw Aizawa grin and couldn't help but feel satisfied with himself and his obvious marvel-quip-level wit.

Midnight knocked the two villains out, allowing Jeans and Aizawa to release their restraints. Eraserhead immediately ran over to his friend, who was just beginning to wake up.

"Hey, Present Mic, are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

Aizawa knelt beside his groggy friend, his fingers scrambling to untie the bindings immobilizing him.

"**NOT PHYSICALLY, NO. THEY DID TELL ME I HAD TERRIBLE TASTE IN FILMS BEFORE KNOCKING ME OUT THOUGH, WHICH CUT DEEP, NOT GONNA LIE."**

Midnight shook her head and snorted.

"Well, I guess the villains and I agree on one thing."

Present Mic shot her an indignant scowl while rubbing his newly freed wrists. Aizawa leaned in and whispered something into his friend's ear, however, that seemed to appease him, as the man was soon grinning once again.

Jeans found himself chafing in his denim suit at the sight of Eraserhead and Present Mic's casual intimacy. But he shook the uncomfortable feeling off.

After all, sitting right in front of him was the man he'd been waiting all day to meet.

Allmight sat in his bonds awkwardly waiting for someone to untie him. It was rather pathetic, Jeans thought to himself, seeing the number 1 hero so helpless.

And it also provided him the perfect opportunity to step in and rescue his prince. He should have been elated at his luck, the situation allowing him to be the dashing hero to Allmight's demure royal-in-distress. It would have been like something straight out of a Hallmark movie, if those cowards had the guts to ever make a homosexual holiday movie, that is. This morning, he wouldn't have hesitated to take advantage of this moment with gratitude and enthusiasm.

But instead he begrudgingly dragged himself over to the large man, hastily untying the knots that kept him restrained before straightening up without even meeting Allmight's gaze.

"Thank you so much. I really appreciate you freeing me, my arm was starting to fall asleep."

Allmight flashed him a smile that was sweeter and more genuine than his usual, dopey grin. This morning, the thought of that charming bashfulness probably would have made Jeans weak at the knees, but now he found himself utterly unaffected by the reality of it.

"Well, you know, just doing my job. It really wasn't a big deal."

Shit what was he doing? This was his big meeting with his fated prince and he was blowing it! At the very least, he should make some eye contact with Allmight, right?

But as soon as he saw the earnestness in the symbol of peace's beady little eyes, he regretted that decision. It reminded him that there was another pair of beady little eyes that he'd rather be looking into right now…

"Well, I'm still very grateful. It's Jeans, right? I've seen your fashion blog, I'm kind of a fan actually. I didn't want to come off too strong, but I can't really pretend that I haven't followed all your recent work. The symbol of peace never lies haha!"

Allmight rubbed the back of his head, his face slightly flushed. Oh great, so the man was also interested in fashion and seemed to be harboring a preexisting crush on Jeans. Could this have worked out any more perfectly?

Yet, why did it feel so wrong?

"Oh, that's nice."

The coldness in his own voice startled even Jeans. He really had to get it together. The nerves that must have taken over his consciousness and were making him ruin this important meeting would need to be dealt with soon before they completely sabotaged his chances with the Christmas prince.

"Yeah, um, so I'm Allmight. It's really nice to meet you."

"Yeah, I know who you are."

At that moment, he felt someone else's eyes burning into the back of his head. When he turned, Aizawa threw him a questioning glance, as if to say, "what the hell are you doing?" but before he could make any sort of response, Nezu cleared his throat and spoke.

"Alright, well thanks to Jeans and Eraserhead's superb instincts and Snipe's proclivity for property damage, we caught our villains."

Snipe whined,

"Hey, my quirk is literally just guns, there's only so much I can do!"

But Nezu continued without acknowledging his employee's wounded pride, turning to Aizawa instead.

"Aizawa, I would like to apologize to you on behalf of the staff for how we dismissed your concerns. In our defense, those villains were very clever and there were absolutely no cracks in their performance as the dignitaries! Plus, after that _Cats_ debacle that left Thirteen with nightmares for weeks and caused Cemento to erupt at both ends in the middle of the theater, I really did not feel like we could trust you ever again. I see now that we were wrong and I hope you can forgive us."

Aizawa nodded before replying,

"There is nothing to forgive, Nezu. No one was hurt and that's what really matters."

He exchanged a meaningful glance with Present Mic- who stood next to him with an arm draped over his shoulders- that made bile rise in Jeans' throat. Jealousy always gave him a stomachache.

He didn't have long to wallow, though, because Nezu turned to him next.

"And, Jeans, thank you for all your help. I know Aizawa is not very easy to work with, so your efforts do not go unnoticed. We all owe your patience and willingness to engage with him a great deal."

Jeans swallowed nervously, before responding in a quavering voice,

"Actually, it was honestly a pleasure working with Eraserhead. I believe I misjudged him at the start of all of this. He is not in fact a scrub, but is a wonderful teacher, hero and friend."

Jeans couldn't bring himself to turn towards Aizawa, but he could tell that he was watching him carefully from where he stood on the other side of the room.

Midnight was also staring at him in a knowing way.

Nezu cleared his throat once more before speaking again.

"Okayyyy, I'm sensing a weird tension, but I'm going to ignore it because ignoring obvious signs of trouble has been working out really well for me this entire story. Allmight and Present Mic, I want you two to go to Recovery Girl to get checked out and give your statements to the police. The rest of you, head back to your dorms and get some rest. Don't forget about our annual, faculty Christmas Eve party tomorrow! It's a big deal, even though no one has brought it up until now, and you just know based on the trajectory of this plot that that's where some shit is going to go down! Oh and by the way, Jeans you'll be staying in the 1A dorm building in the guest room right next to Aizawa, of course. I figured you wouldn't mind after that weird little speech you made about him."

With that, the small creature left the room, followed by most of the other teachers. Eraserhead leaned into his friend's ear and said one last thing to Present Mic, before the loud man squeezed his arm and walked into the hallway. Allmight looked back at Jeans expectantly as he exited, trying to catch his eye, but he refused to look at the giant man, not even to catch a glimpse of his huge buttcrack on the way out.

Finally, it was just him, Aizawa and Midnight left in the room. Aizawa looked as if he was going to approach Jeans to say something for a moment, but instead he simply turned around and walked out the door.

Jeans was about to follow him, when Midnight came up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I've known Aizawa for a long time, but I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you."

Jeans scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"I'm shocked he even noticed me after being reunited with Present Mic."

Midnight shook her head and laughed quietly.

"He's always been stubborn. I've been telling him to download grindr for years, trying to convince him that some good dick will at least distract him from his gross crush. But he refuses, claiming he's content indefinitely pining away over an unrequited love because that's all he deserves. Did I mention he's also incredibly dense and melodramatic?"

Midnight smiled softly before continuing,

"But when I saw how the two of you were together, it gave me hope for him. He looks at Present Mic like he's the sun and stars, that's true and it hasn't changed. But he looks at you like he sees you as you truly are, even through all those impractical layers of denim you insist on wearing. And I think that's something pretty special."

With that, Midnight patted him on the back before walking into the hallway, leaving Jeans alone to try to process her sappy words, which seemed out of tone with the rest of this story, unless somewhere along the way the writer actually got into the ship and started to write genuinely cringey romance rather than funny cringey buttcrack jokes.

Aizawa looked at him like he saw him as he truly was. What was that supposed to mean?

He could have stood there thinking that over all night, but the heaviness of his diaper dragged him back into reality.

It was time to get back to the dorms and change into his pajama denims. After all, he would need all the rest he could get if he wanted to salvage his meet-cute with Allmight at this Christmas party.

But, as he walked over to 1A's building, he found his daydreams of his Christmas Prince being overtaken by ones of a certain crusty, classless, least-likely-to-be-a-holiday-themed-bachelor-in-a-quaint-hometown-who-probably-is-a-lumberjack-or-like-owns-a-coffee-shop-or-something human being that he had once vowed to not waste any more time thinking about...

When Jeans finally found the dorm he was staying in, he opened the door to find himself face-to-face with the man who had dominated his thoughts for the past few minutes.

Aizawa had changed into a stained Bon Jovi fan club t-shirt and wrinkled grey sweatpants. His freshly washed hair was wrapped in a frayed and suspiciously soiled toil. It was a combination of fabrics that Jeans found both nauseating and oddly endearing.

Dear god, what had come over him?

"Hey, Capris, I can show you to your room if you want."

Jeans shook himself from his internal conflict just long enough to respond.

"Uh, yeah that would be great. I'm ready to change out of this suit."

A faint look of amusement crossed Eraserhead's features.

"Oh really? I always assumed that wearing head-to-toe, skin-tight denim would be the quintessence of comfort."

Jeans rolled his eyes.

"Nice SAT word. I'm shocked someone who slept through every class in high school has such an expansive vocabulary."

"I like to just absorb the knowledge. You know, like photosynthesis."

"I don't think photosynthesis is what you think it is. Maybe you should have tried to stay awake during a science lecture. The only thing absorbing anything here is my diaper."

Aizawa laughed, which made Jeans feel as warm and mushy inside as his full diaper currently felt against his buttcheeks.

"I didn't know you wore diapers."

"Yeah well, with my costume, I would be spending hours in the bathroom just trying to get in and out of my suit every time I had to pee. That would be super inefficient, don't you think?"

"Yeah, you're right and also very illogical."

Jeans felt his heart boner stiffen once more at Aizawa's approval. Before he could embarrass himself in front of the apparent bon jovi stan, however, Eraserhead stopped in front of a closed door.

"Hey, here's your room. I'll be right next door if you need anything."

"Oh, right. Thank you."

"No problem. Goodnight, Pantaloons. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow."

Aizawa walked into his own room with a little wave, leaving Jeans out in the hallway. An empty feeling settled in his chest, but since his diaper was certainly not empty, he did not have long to dwell on it.

He was flooded with relief once he peeled off his suit and disposed of that day's sanitary product. Finally, he could put on his pajama denims.

But, when he rifled through the bag he had packed that morning, the thick night gown was nowhere to be found.

"Shit, shit, shit."

He had forgotten it at home! Oh no, what was he supposed to sleep in?

Before he could stop himself, he shrieked at the top of his lungs.

Following his dramatic cry of desperation, he heard rapid footsteps approaching his room from the hallway, followed by an urgent knock.

"Hey, Jeans, are you okay?"

Aizawa's raspy (not sure why I used this adjective I'm tired leave me alone xo the writer) voice was muffled by the door, but Jeans was pleased to note its concerned tone.

"Um, yes, sorry, I was just freaking out because I left my pajama denims at home and now I have nothing to wear to bed. It's not really a big deal. I'm just baby."

There was a pause before Eraserhead responded.

"Well, if you're upset about it, then it is a big deal. Wait there, I'll bring you some of my nightclothes that you can borrow."

"Oh, that's really not necessary-"

But before he could finish his sentence, the creaking of the floorboards in the hallway indicated that Aizawa was already making his way back to his room.

Jeans shuddered at the thought of what Aizawa wore to bed, and not in a sexy way. The man showed up to work in wrinkled sweats and apparently wore similar attire after class, just with more mystery stains and embarrassing logos. Jeans had not worn anything that wasn't denim since he was a child, and he did not know if he could muster the emotional strength needed to break that streak right now.

Before he could wallow in despair for too long, there was another knock at the door.

"Hey, I brought you an old t-shirt and some sweats. I know it's not in-season or trendy or whatever it is you're used to, but I hope it will do."

Jeans did not appreciate the mocking tone Aizawa used.

"Excuse you, I do not wear trendy clothes, nor am I bound to the capricious fashion-seasons like some sort of sheep. My garments all embody timeless elegance and class that transcends fickle fads."

Aizawa sighed, but Jeans could picture the man smiling slightly behind the door. Perhaps, he was just being over-indulgent with himself though, because when Eraserhead next spoke, it was in a rough, impatient manner.

"Look, do you want the pajamas or not? I'm tired and would like to not spend the entire night negotiating with you through a door over five dollars' worth of clothing."

Jeans' stomach churned at how little the mystery ensemble awaiting him in Aizawa's arms cost. No doubt such cheap fabrics would irritate his sensitive skin.

"I don't know. It's been a long time since I wore anything other than denim…"

"Fine. Sleep in your hero suit for all I care. I'm going back to bed."

Then there was silence. Jeans waited for the sound of Aizawa's footsteps, indicating that he was following through on his threat, but it never came.

He smiled to himself. Midnight was right, Aizawa was stubborn.

"Alright, I'll take your grubby pajamas. No one else is allowed to see me in them, though. I do have my snobby image to uphold."

He heard Eraserhead mutter "I never said it was snobby" before responding in a more audible tone,

"You know I made sure to get the grubbiest ones just for you. I'm coming in now."

Aizawa turned the doorknob and Jeans was sure he turned bright red. He was so caught up in his panic, that he almost didn't slam his full weight against the door before Eraserhead could open it.

"You can't come in here! Oh, _the_ _impropriety_!"

"What? Are you living in Victorian England? It's just a bedroom, it's not big deal."

"No, it's not the room, it's the fact that I'm…. uh nakey right now. And I never let a man see my taint before the first date."

There was a long pause and Jeans wondered whether he had gone too far in making the "date" joke and scared Aizawa off. Or perhaps taint had been too graphic of an example…

"Oh my god, Jeans I'm so sorry. I didn't even think about that. Uh, here, I can find some other way to pass you the pajamas, just, um, hang out there…I mean hang _in_ there! Hang _in_, not _out_ like your scrotum is right now, haha I'm definitely not thinking about that."

Eraserhead's anxious laugh made a different type of blush creep up Jeans' cheeks. It was sort of sweet how flustered the other man had gotten, even if he had said the word scrotum out loud. Scrotum was truly a terrible word to say out loud. He didn't think he ever wanted to hear anyone else say the word Scrotum ever again. Scrotum.

"It's okay, Aizawa, I know you're not thinking about my scrotum. Now, if you crack open the door, I can take the pajamas for you. But you have to close your eyes, okay?"

Aizawa grunted in agreement and opened the door just enough for Jeans to stick his hand through to grab the bundle of clothes he held. Before shutting the door, Jeans peaked through the crevice to make sure that Eraserhead held up his end of the deal, and sure enough he stood with a hand covering his eyes, his face bright red. What a gentleman, Jeans thought to himself with a deep sense of satisfaction.

After he shut the door, Aizawa cleared his throat.

"Ahem, well I better get back to bed. I'll just leave you to it."

"Wait, Eraserhead, would you mind staying up with me for a bit? Once I get changed into these clothes, that is. I hate doing my evening skincare routine alone."

There was a pause before Aizawa responded in a skeptical manner,

"I thought you didn't want anyone to see you in those sweats."

"I said I didn't want anyone _else_ to see me in them." Jeans corrected.

"Oh… Okay, yeah just let me know when you're ready." Aizawa's voice once again sounded small and vulnerable and Jeans once again swooned a bit more than he would have liked, a familiar cliché pattern that the writer of this story was milking the shit out of because she is a hack incapable of more than derivative dialogue, middle school toilet humor, and asides that are both self-indulgent and self-deprecating.

He quickly changed into the clothes (which consisted of an old brown t-shirt with Legolas on it- Jeans guessed Aizawa just had a thing for blondes- and a smelly pair of joggers), before letting their owner into the room.

Eraserhead walked tentatively into the guestroom, leaning against the wall as Jeans sat on the bed and laid out an array of hair- and skin-care products.

"Sorry that those pants aren't super fresh. I haven't done laundry in a while."

Jeans could not lie, the pants smelled horrific. But something about their awful scent was strangely comforting, because it reminded him of Aizawa, who he had come to learn over the course of the day always sort of smelled like B.O. Normally, Jeans would run the other way screaming if he met a teacher who smelled worse than the boy's locker room where the adolescents he taught farted and threw their sweaty gym socks around, but Eraserhead seemed to be the exception that proved the rule.

"That's alright. It's not too terrible, I suppose."

"Oh, so you think you'll survive the night in my grubby clothes, Bermuda Shorts?"

"I'm not sure yet, the prognosis is still 50/50. I think you'll need to check on me tomorrow morning, you know, just in case you have to revive me."

Jeans had to get a hold of himself. Tomorrow is the Christmas Eve party where he could finally kiss his very own Christmas prince, and yet here he was, shamelessly flirting with the man's grungy coworker the night before. What was he doing?

And yet, despite his internal self-flagellation, the only thing he could focus on was Aizawa's reaction. Had he crossed a line again? Would this be the flirtation to finally scare him away?

But Aizawa made no response other than an ambiguous grunt. Still, Jeans could have sworn he saw the shadow of a smile pass over the man's lips in the moonlight.

And at least he wasn't running away screaming yet. Jeans decided to test Aizawa's limits and his own. He had once thought that even his makeover prowess could not put Aizawa on the path to godlike physical perfection (or at the very least, average ugliness rather than the extreme state of unattractiveness that he currently occupied), but perhaps…

"Hey, Eraserhead, why don't you sit with me for a bit? I have some products that I think would really help with the dark circles under your eyes, and the sickly pallor of your skin, and how gross and bloodshot your corneas are, and those greasy tangles in your hair, and-"

"Geez, I get it, I'm a mess."

Aizawa rolled his eyes, but to Jeans' delight, made his way over to the bed and sat beside him as he liberally applied dry shampoo to his bang.

Eraserhead glared skeptically at the line of bottles and jars that Jeans had set up before them.

"Why don't you let me start with your hair, Aizawa? I actually think it could look really nice if you ever, you know, actually brushed it."

Aizawa grunted again before angling his head to allow Jeans to run his fingers through it. He used some leave-in conditioner to get the mats out, picking at Eraserhead's scalp pimples as he did so.

"You know, I think you might actually look half-way decent if you put your hair up, like this-"

Jeans grabbed Eraserhead's hair and pulled it back into a low ponytail. Just as he expected, the man did not look like George Washington when he did so.

So Aizawa passed the low ponytail test after all.

"If you let me do it for you tomorrow, then maybe I could take a nice picture of you and Present Mic at the Christmas Eve party. I'm sure there will be a lovely backdrop for it. And if you shave those face pubes, maybe you wouldn't be such an eyesore, yourself."

Jeans might have just been imagining it, but he could have sworn he saw Aizawa slump down a little further at the mention of Present Mic's name.

"Oh, right, the picture. I almost forgot about that."

And was Jeans' jealous mind playing more tricks on him, or did Eraserhead sound slightly disappointed by Jeans' picture proposal?

"Well, I didn't. I would gladly suffer through a conversation with Present Mic to get to style you. If you're still interested, that is."

"Maybe…"

The way Aizawa's voice trailed off told Jeans that he was not really listening to him anymore. He was lost in thought, a faraway look in his eyes as the denim hero continued to tousle his greasy (and now sort of slimy from the conditioner) hair.

Abruptly, Aizawa reached back to grab Jeans' hand and stop him from continuing to work through the strands, angling his face so that he could look his potential stylist in the eye.

"Did you mean what you said about me earlier? After we caught the villains, I mean. Do you really think I'm not a scrub?"

For a moment, Jeans' heart pounded too heavily for him to respond. But then, at the sight of Aizawa's earnest expression, he gave the man's hand a squeeze and sat down beside him so that their eyes were level with each other.

"Aizawa, as you might have realized by now, I am a very judgmental man. And before I worked with you, I probably-no I _definitely_ would have declared that you were an absolute scrub. The scrubbiest of scrubs, actually. Nothing but a straight up uggo with a terrible personality, a mediocre hero who pretends to hate the media because you were unable to gain popularity with them, and a borderline negligent teacher. But after spending the day with you and seeing how much you care about your students and coworkers and friends, even when they don't always appreciate you, I can say with absolute certainty that I was wrong. You're not a scrub or a mediocre hero. And you definitely don't have a terrible personality. You kind of are a negligent teacher, but you still seem to be guiding your students down the right path, which is pretty cool."

Aizawa stared at him, clearly caught off guard by Jeans' honesty, for a moment before his face settled into a scowl.

"I just asked you if I was a scrub, I didn't want you to evaluate my teaching, you arrogant-"

"You deserve love, Aizawa. You deserve someone who is going to reciprocate your feelings. I can't bear to watch you sit and listen to someone scream the worst possible movie analyses of all time while you bury your emotions for the rest of your life. You deserve more than that!"

Jeans and Aizawa sat gazing at each other after his sudden speech. Honestly, Jeans was surprised by his own intensity, but once the words came out of his mouth, he knew he meant all of them from the bottom of his rock-hard, throbbing heart.

Eraserhead looked shocked for a moment, before his brow furrowed and his expression changed to one of deep concentration. He was clearly reflecting on the emotional dump Jeans had just taken all over him.

As the man across from him bit the inside of his cheek and stared off into space, Jeans found himself drawn closer, leaning in towards that chapped, pube-surrounded mouth.

Every part of him that was remotely rational was screaming at him to stop. Kissing Eraserhead was not part of the plan. But those parts were losing to the one he normally kept hidden deep within the recesses of the back pocket of his soul.

Screw the plan! It was time to-

Right as his lips were merely inches from Aizawa's own, the man shot straight up, maintaining actually decent posture for once, realization brimming in his eyes.

"So what you're saying is, I should tell Present Mic how I feel?"

Jeans' heart sank. Despite everything, Aizawa still only had eyes for his best friend.

At that moment, he wanted to be cruel, to tell Eraserhead that his friend would never actually be interested in him. He wanted to rip his heart to shreds like a thot (aka the writer during her "rebellious teen" phase) ripping up an old pair of jeans to make booty shorts, just like Aizawa had done to him.

But when he saw the hope in the man's eyes, he couldn't.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I meant. And what better setting for a big romantic reveal than a Christmas Eve party where all your loved ones will be in attendance? It's almost a little too perfect if you ask me."

Aizawa grinned his creepy grin before reaching forward and tousling Jeans' freshly positioned bang.

"I didn't think a guy like you believed in too perfect, Slacks."

Jeans smiled sadly, a hollow aching in his chest at the awkward expression of affection.

"Yeah, you're right. You seem to know me pretty well."

The smile on Aizawa's face faded for a moment, before he stood up and began making his way to the door.

"I appreciate all your advice, but I better go so I can get ready for tomorrow. I'll actually have to get up more than five minutes before I have to head out for my plan to work. Can I borrow that face stuff, you know for my eye bags?"

Aizawa pointed at one of Jeans' many skin creams.

"No."

Eraserhead's face fell slightly at Jeans' cool rejection, which did provide him with a bit of petty satisfaction. Of course, he couldn't leave the man hanging for too long.

"But you can borrow this one. It will work much better with your combination skin."

He tossed Aizawa the nicest face mask he had brought with him, which the man caught with ease before smiling at him once more.

"Thanks. Well, goodnight."

Aizawa walked across the threshold into the hallway, but then paused and turned back to face Jeans, his expression suddenly unreadable.

"Hey, Jeans, I just want you to know that I never thought you were a snob. I just thought that the perfect image you presented to the public covered up so many of the things that make you _you_. Like the fact that you actually have a sense of humor and your terrible taste in movies and the way your other eye lights up when you're excited when it's not covered by your bang and what your smile looks like behind that horrible mouth crotch you normally wear. I just don't get why you'd hide the best things about yourself, you know? You're still amazing even when you're not trying to be flawless. In fact, I think you're even more amazing when you let your guard down."

Jeans sat there flabbergasted by what Aizawa had just said, unable to think of any sort of coherent response. Luckily, he didn't have to because Eraserhead shut the door immediately after he finished, gruffly shouting from behind it,

"Anyway, sleep tight, Jeggings."

Once again, Midnight's words from earlier ran through Jeans' mind.

He looks at you like he sees you as you truly are.

Goddammit, his mind was buzzing and there is no way he'd be able to fall asleep. Fuck Aizawa and his stupid, vaguely romantic speech.

He flopped down onto the bed and pulled out his phone, feeling the need to talk to someone who wasn't involved with this godforsaken school about his predicament.

Once he dialed the right number, the phone rang a few times before James picked up,

"_Jeans, what's up? How's the assignment going? Ha Ha! I got you now!"_

"Uh, what?" Jeans replied, confused by their sudden change of tone.

"_Oh sorry, I was just wrestling with Nomu. I love tickling him and watching how he doesn't react at all. Something about the way he just stares at me with his huge, vacant eyes just, ugh, you know?"_

Jeans sighed, envious of how secure his roommate was in their relationship. For a moment, he was tempted to tell them everything. That's why he called wasn't it? To get a second opinion on his ridiculous crush on Aizawa. But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to reveal so much yet.

"Oh gotycha. The mission is going okay. We caught some villains who were posing as the representatives from Taint-lia today, but other than that it was pretty uneventful."

"_Woah, villains? Sounds scary! Do you wanna talk about it?"_

"Actually, James, I have a question for you. It's kind of personal, so I hope you aren't weirded out."

"_Hey, it takes a lot to weird me out. I watch magnet-fishing youtube channels and read Thanos x reader smut fan fiction, remember?"_

Jeans chuckled, knowing at that moment that he had called the right roommate. Cemento probably would have taken his call in the bathroom and while he certainly didn't blame the cement creature for his sensitive stomach, he doubted the sounds of his gastrointestinal distress would have been as comforting as James' kind words were right now.

"True. Well, I was wondering, how did you realize you had feelings for Nomu?"

James hesitated, letting the static hang between them for a moment, before responding,

"_It's kind of a funny story. Nomu was actually the one who revealed his feelings first. We met at a party and drunkenly made out and exchanged numbers. After that, we started texting and watching Hell's Kitchen together. Pretty soon after our first, sober meet-up, Nomu told me he was interested in me romantically, but I rejected him. Honestly, I didn't really know how I felt yet and I was scared. But the more we talked, the more I realized I wouldn't be able to pretend I just wanted to be friends with him. He made me laugh and smile and feel comfortable, even though I was scared of how attached I was growing to him. But I really know how much I care about him because even during difficult conversations and tense moments, I feel like I can rely on him and be completely myself in front of him, if that makes sense?"_

Jeans reflected for a moment on how he had been able to let his guard down around Aizawa all day. And how easy it had been to trust the man during their rescue mission. Honestly, he hadn't worried about the villains even a little bit knowing that Eraserhead was by his side.

"That does make sense. Thank you, James."

"_No problem! This wouldn't be about a certain Christmas Prince, would it? One who's name happens to rhyme with Small-tight, wink-wink?"_

Jeans laughed nervously.

"Haha, yeah something like that. Anyway, I better go. I'll talk to you soon."

"_Okay, see you soon, Jeans! Nomu, say goodbye!"_

James' command was followed by silence before the beeping on the other end of the line indicated that they ended the call.

Jeans had hoped he'd gain some clarity from that conversation, but now he felt more lost than ever.

He was sure that his feelings for Aizawa were real, but that didn't change the fact that the smelly, misanthropic, still fugly teacher was entirely emotionally unavailable.

It also didn't change the fact that there was still the presence of an entirely emotionally available Christmas Prince named Allmight who he was technically here to pursue.

What should Jeans do? Should he stick with his plan, try to make his longtime dream a reality by getting Allmight under the mistletoe? Or should he risk it all for his juvenile, astoundingly inconvenient crush?

Jeans lay back in bed, trying to picture Allmight's thick, juicy buttcrack in order to distract himself from the longing in his heart, but unable to keep the mysterious expression on Aizawa's face right before he left out of his mind. poop


	4. Chapter 4: Stinky kisses

Jeans woke up to sunlight streaming through the guestroom's open window. Geez, it must have been a bright morning.

He reached over and grabbed his phone to see how much time he had to get ready.

_1:00 PM_

It was one o'clock in the afternoon! Holy shit, how had he slept through the entire morning?!

Nezu's Christmas Eve party (or should I say darty) was already in full swing, meaning he had to start getting ready now. He made his way into the bathroom, bracing himself for the sight of his groggy reflection.

There was crust in the corners of his eyes and creases on his cheek from where he lay against the pillow. He splashed water in his face before turning his attention to his hair.

His bang was still mussed up from where Aizawa ruffled it last night. He was about to smooth it down, but something stopped him. It was the first time he had been able to see both of his eyes in a long time.

He walked out of the bathroom with his bedhead intact, ready to don his denim suit, when he noticed the small piece of paper that had been slipped under the door.

Upon further inspection, Jeans found it was a note that read:

_Corduroys,_

_ Thank you for everything you said last night. And for the face goop. It was nice in a weird, sticky way. I'll return it to you at the Christmas party today, right after I tell Present Mic how I feel about him. You gave me the courage to finally go for what I deserve. _

_ See you soon,_

_ Aizawa_

_P.S. you're gonna want to bring your camera, I think that face goop worked better than expected_

Oh god, what was he doing? Here he was, forcing his ass into countless layers of denim

while the man he cared about was pouring his heart out to a booger-eating fool! Screw propriety and fashion and Christmas princes and plans, he could not let Aizawa go through with this without at least being honest about his own feelings.

He dropped the suit in his hands, pulling the abandoned, stinky sweatpants back on, and sprinted out of the dorm in his shower flip flops, not bothering to change into anything nicer. He raced towards the main UA building, hoping that he wouldn't be too late.

He was so focused on his destination that he didn't even notice, the tall, skeletal blonde man walking right in front of him until he collided into the figure's bony ass (or lack thereof).

"Oof, what the hell?"

Jeans gritted his teeth in annoyance as he rose back to his feet, dusting the dirt off his own sweatpants-encased butt.

"Sorry, Jeans! I didn't see you there. Are you running late to the Christmas party too?"

Jeans stared up at the creepy looking man, noticing something familiar in the way he bashfully smiled.

"Uh yeah, but who are you? Don't tell me you're another villain trying to break in to hurt Allmight. I'm not as gullible as Nezu, you know."

The man shook his head, his wiry blond hair reflecting the sunlight in a way that was reminiscent of the Symbol of Peace's own locks.

"Oh, no, no, no. Nothing as sinister as that, I'm afraid. Actually, I am Allmight. I know we haven't met in my weakened form yet, so I hope you aren't too repulsed."

"Allmight" laughed and Jeans gazed at him skeptically. There certainly were some similarities now that he knew what to look for, but could this flaccid bag of bones actually be the number one hero?

"I don't know. Allmight had some pretty sick buttcheeks and you have none. That doesn't seem to add up."

"Oh, here, I should have enough energy to power up my ass. Hang on."

After straining for a moment, the man sure enough expanded his ass so that it perfectly matched Allmight's, cavernous buttcrack and all.

"So it is you, Allmight."

The man grinned.

"In the flesh. So what do you think? I know it's not as impressive as my muscle form, but this is who I really am. I hope that doesn't scare you off."

The man's pathetic earnestness reminded him of what Aizawa had said to him the night before: "I think you're even more amazing when you let your guard down."

"You haven't scared me off, Allmight. Honestly…" He paused for a long moment as the other hero gazed expectantly at him, "I just think you're super ugly. At one point, I may have thought you were my Christmas prince, but now I see that you're incredibly boring and there is no way that we'd have any romantic or sexual chemistry, even with your giant buttcrack. Sorry, no hard feelings."

"Oh, uh, okay I mean I'm not gonna lie, that hurt my feelings a bit, but-"

"Whatever, you'll get over it, big guy. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a heartfelt romantic moment between childhood friends to ruin."

With that, Jeans was off.

By the time he arrived at the UA staff room, Jeans could tell that Nezu's party had already devolved.

In one corner, Snipe was drunkenly telling one of Ectoplasm's clones that he was his best friend while the real Ectoplasm was sticking his face in Thirteen's finger vacuums, making the suction flap his cheeks like a dog.

Meanwhile, Powerloader was chasing Vlad King around the room as the large dog-man rubbed his asshole all over the carpet in excitement.

"Vlad, come on, we talked about this! Nezu said the repairs budget has already been used up to fix all the shit Snipe shot!"

Under the tree, Nezu was rambling on about how he kept his fur shiny to Midnight and…the two villains from yesterday?! They were cuffed but it still seemed like an unnecessarily risky move, even for the principal.

As if noticing his horrified glance, the mouse turned to Jeans and greeted him cheerily.

"Ah, hello, Jeans, I almost didn't recognize you in that...interesting outfit. You're probably wondering why I invited the villains to the party, no?"

Jeans nodded to the small creature.

"Yeah, I was actually."

Nezu laughed.

"Well, Christmas is for everyone, even villains! I wanted to share some of our classic, UA cheer with them! Besides what's the worst thing that could happen?"

As if on cue, Shigaraki began screaming,

"Kill them all, daddy! I want to destroy every last one of these heroes and their stupid decorations too!"

Jeans could think of many answers to Nezu's rhetorical question, but before he could respond, Midnight approached him.

"I like your new digs, Jeans. I haven't seen you so laid back since gym class our freshmen year. And even then, you had the support course teachers write you a note that said you had to wear jeans during PE. I'm impressed by your obvious character growth."

She smirked at him mischievously and he was about to ask her where the person he came to this cursed soiree to find was, when a strong hand grasped his shoulder and began leading him to the other side of the room.

"Jeans, I've been looking everywhere for you. I figured you were staying at UA last night when you didn't come home to the apartment, but it's not like you to sleep in so late. And where's your hero costume? Are you feeling alright?"

Cemento was dragging him over to a secluded corner, probably to stage some sort of intervention for him after seeing that Jeans wore sweatpants in public today.

Curse Aizawa's B.O., Cemento never would have been able to sneak up on him like that if it hadn't been for the rancid odor emanating from the borrowed pajamas.

Ken abruptly turned him toward the wall, where Jeans found himself face-to-face with his other roommate James and their silent, ever-present boyfriend Nomu.

They were stationed on either side of a lamp, which James was currently pushing towards their unresponsive partner.

"Alright, I kissed Mr. Lamp, now it's your turn, Nomu."

Nomu made no attempt to avoid the light bulb pressed against his beak, but he also did not actively kiss it.

"Come on, Nomu, live a little!"

"James, I found Jeans."

At that, James looked up with a startled expression on their face. When they caught sight of Jeans, this expression was rapidly replaced by one of complete puzzlement, then one of concern, and finally one of amusement.

"Jeans, what the hell happened-"

"Look, it's a long story that I'll gladly tell you later, but right now I need your help. I need you to tell me where Eraserhead is!"

James furrowed their brow for a moment, before their eyes lit up in recognition of the urgency in Jeans' voice.

"Oh, this must have something to do with the questions you were asking me on the phone yesterday, doesn't it?"

Jeans sighed and then nodded, hoping that once James knew the fate of his romantic hopes rested on locating Aizawa they would be more inclined to help.

"Well, I'm still confused, but I won't keep you from your man. He's right over there."

Jeans gazed in the direction they pointed, but to his disappointment, only saw Present Mic spraying saliva all over some random twink he was subjecting to his horrible opinions.

"**AND THAT'S WHY ANNHILATION IS THE BEST MOVIE EVER!"**

Wait a minute, that wasn't some random hottie, it was Aizawa!

For a moment, Jeans was frozen staring at the nearly unrecognizable person before him. Aizawa had pulled his hair back and shaved, just like Jeans had suggested. He was also wearing a tailored suit (that looked as though it contained no polyester, Jeans mused) and appeared to have gotten a decent night's sleep. That or, as Aizawa had said himself, that face mask really had worked miracles. His skin seemed soft and smooth and his whole face was just so…not gross! It was such a wild transformation, it almost seemed like an example of gratuitous fan service, rather than an actually plausible character moment.

Jeans' heart nearly burst from his chest. But in all his mouth-watering over Eraserhead's new lewk, he almost missed the words coming out of the man's near-perfect lips.

"So, Present Mic, there's something I have to tell you. I've been feeling this way for a long time and I think it's time you knew the truth-"

"Wait!"

Before he could stop himself, Jeans had hurled his body forward, towards the pair, shouting his objection to the speech Aizawa was about to make to his best friend.

Silence fell over the room, with even Shigaraki taking a break from threatening them all with violent deaths. The only person still moving was Vlad King, who despite being completely focused on Jeans, was still rubbing his butt on the carpet as if unable to stop himself.

"Wait, Aizawa, before you tell Present Mic how you feel, I think I should be honest with you too."

Eraserhead stared at him, his mouth agape, while Present Mic stood obliviously behind him, once again picking his nose and slurping up the boogers he found.

**"HEY GO AHEAD, MAN. I DON'T KNOW WHY EVERYONE IS SO SERIOUS ALL OF A SUDDEN, BUT I WON'T GET IN YOUR WAY."**

Jeans was about to glare at Aizawa's obnoxious friend, but when he saw the conspiratorial smile Present Mic was directing at him, he wondered if the fool picked up on more than he let on.

He turned back to Aizawa, who made no attempt to respond and still looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Jeans felt bad for a moment, knowing how much Eraserhead hated being the center of attention, but he couldn't turn back now.

"Look, Aizawa, I know you said I gave you the courage to be honest with your friend, and I'm glad I was able to do that for you. I meant what I said yesterday-"

"About me being a negligent teacher?"

Jeans was surprised by Aizawa's sudden deadpan remark.

"Um, no, I mean yes, but about all that other sappy stuff too. You do deserve someone who will care about you the way you care about them. But if I let you open up about your feelings, without being honest about my own, I would be the worst sort of hypocrite. So, Aizawa, I-"

"Wait, Jeans, I think you should let me finish saying what I have to Present Mic before you do this."

Jeans sighed.

"Look, Aizawa, I know you are hung up on someone else, but please, I already sacrificed my last ounce of dignity coming here dressed like this. I don't care if you reject me in front of all of your coworkers and my friends, who were also inexplicably invited to this staff party despite not working here, I just need to say this."

Aizawa stared at him for a moment before shaking his head.

"Just trust me, you're going to want to hear what I have to say to Present Mic."

With that he turned back to his friend, who was munching on a particularly crunchy dried snot ball, before speaking in a low tone.

"Present Mic, I think you know how I feel about you. I care about you very deeply and I have since we were in school together. You're my best friend and the first person who accepted me for who I am, and you'll always have a special place inside me because of that."

**"HAHA INSIDE YOU, THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!"**

Aizawa laughed softly before continuing

"Yes, exactly, your terrible sense of humor is one of the things I love most about you. And I know you care about me too. But I'm also well aware that you have the emotional depth of a slug and you will never be able to love me like I love you. Plus you're so busy with your failing film critique blog that you don't have the time or energy to date even if you wanted to."

Eraserhead put a hand on Present Mic's shoulder and smiled sadly, resignation in his eyes. But when he next spoke, Jeans was surprised by the resolve in his voice.

"But that's okay, because I think it's time I let you go. For a long time, I was convinced you were the only man who would ever accept me. But then, someone came into my life who convinced me that I can be loved, even though I'm a grump and antisocial and sleep through most of the workday and don't believe in using deodorant and only brush my teeth once a week."

Jeans couldn't help but interject at that.

"Uh, wait, I didn't know those last two things."

Aizawa turned and glared at him, activating his quirk in annoyance.

"Who said I was talking about you, Lululemon?"

"Hey! You dare compare me to one of the four horsemen of the fast fashion apocalypse. I'll have you know that my second doctoral thesis was all about the environmental impact-"

"Oh shut up and suck each other's dicks already!"

Midnight shouted leading to a chorus of cheers from the rest of the faculty and other honored guests. Even Shigaraki and Kurogiri seemed to be absorbed in the big romantic moment, with the giant (still super sexy) vortex sniffling slightly while his companion attempted to comfort him.

"It's just so beautiful."

"I know, daddy, I know."

Once the excited- and slightly horny- racket faded, Jeans turned back to Eraserhead, who was looking at his feet, his features drawn in a contemplative expression.

"But, Jeans, what about your Christmas prince? Wasn't that your dream all along? Allmight's standing right over there, waiting for you."

Jeans turned to see that the tall man, who was back in his hero form, was in fact watching him from under the mistletoe. It was like everything he had ever imagined.

Allmight gave him a small awkward wave and raised his hand to show a rose that he must have picked from the garden on his way over here. What a romantic and thoughtful gesture.

"I, uh, know this isn't much, but I thought it might be able to make up for the fact that you had to see me all gross and weak earlier."

Allmight offered as a tentative explanation.

Jeans turned back to Aizawa, who had clearly been studying his reaction to the number one hero's gesture.

Jeans stood up a little straighter before scoffing.

"Yuck, fuck that guy, am I right? I mean, take a hint, geez, what an idiot."

At that everyone began to laugh at Allmight, who joined in despite the tears streaming from his eyes.

"He's right, I am an idiot. I'm in on the joke too, guys!"

His desperate attempt to fit in, only made the other teachers laugh harder.

In the middle of all the commotion, Jeans stepped toward Aizawa. The amused smile faded from the man's face as he looked deeply into Jean's eyes.

Jeans grinned softly as he whispered, so that only Eraserhead could hear.

"I don't want a Christmas Prince anymore. I only want you."

Jeans heart leapt as Aizawa's cheeks flushed and without hesitating this time, he took the man's hands in his own and leaned in.

But just as he was about to press his lips to Eraserhead's the door to the staff room lounge shot open, revealing the stupidest looking person any of them had ever seen. He looked like if someone who had never seen a gecko or a person tried to draw some sort of weird hybrid of the two.

"Hi, everyone! Sorry I'm late, my flight was delayed. I'm the representative from Taint-lia-"

Before the gecko man could finish, Snipe let out a high-pitched squeal before shooting the man in the leg.

"Ow! Holy shit! You shot me, what the actual fuck? I'm just here to find the Christmas prince."

Snipe stumbled forward, profusely apologizing.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! We just had some villains impersonate you and I guess I'm a little jumpy. Plus, my only power is guns, so shooting people is literally the only thing I can do. I kind of suck as a superhero actually. I'm even worse than Hawkeye, who's only power is that he can shoot a bow and arrow."

The man looked like he was about to respond, before recovery girl came and smooched him right on the lips, immediately healing his wound. Once she added a little tongue, the bullet was out of his body and he was able to stand again.

This time Nezu stepped forward to shake the man's hand.

"Mr. Taint-lia, welcome to UA! I'm terribly sorry for that inconvenience, we've had some security issues in the past few days. I can't put my paw on why our defenses keep being breached. Speaking of which, how did you get in here?"

The gecko-man shook his head before brushing the dust off his pants.

"My name is Icky, not Mr. Taint-lia, but anyway I just walked in. You left the gates open with a big sign indicating the room all the faculty were in. You also mentioned on that same sign that everyone would be intoxicated and have their guards down so- and I'm still quoting the sign here- it would be the perfect time to launch an attack on the school. To be honest, I feel like you really didn't have to include that last part, it seems like you're giving away potentially damaging information about yourselves."

Nezu cackled.

"Ah, but then how would you have found us if I didn't?"

"I don't know, I was planning on just calling and setting up a meeting."

Nezu cocked his head to the side and smiled.

"Interesting, I guess that could have worked too. Anyway, please tell us who the Christmas Prince is, we're all dying to know. Even though Jeans, the protagonist of this story has lost interest in this particular plot point, I'm sure the reader still wants a resolution."

Icky rubbed the back of their neck and smiled awkwardly.

"Uh, yeah, that's the thing, I actually don't know. They just sent me here with the ceremonial ball-sack ornament that our last king made himself from scratch and insisted be hung on the UA Christmas tree for some reason. So, I guess, whoever you guys think it is should put this on the tree."

Icky pulled a very realistic, veiny, wrinkly and hairy ballsack attached to a string out of his bag, looking at the teachers expectantly.

Jeans watched as Nezu walked behind Allmight and gave the giant man a nudge in the calf to step forward.

"I think we can all agree that Allmight is still most likely the prince right?"

The other teachers, including Aizawa, nodded and Jeans found himself agreeing as well.

With that, Icky handed Allmight the ballsack, which he fondled, his eyes full of awe, before gingerly carrying it towards the tree.

"I cannot express how grateful I am for this opportunity. You have no idea how much this-"

Suddenly, just as he was about to hang it on the highest bough of the tree, Allmight's hand fumbled a bit and he dropped the ornament which shattered on the ground.

Icky gasped before fainting at the sight of the ceremonial ballsack being destroyed.

Nezu, rarely one to express his anger, shouted at Allmight,

"You big oaf, look what you've done!"

Thirteen chimed in,

"Yeah we should have let those villains murder you, after all!"

There were sounds of agreement throughout the room, before all the faculty members began booing Allmight, who did his best to apologize and pick up the pieces of the ornament, but only managed to crush them into even smaller pieces.

Jeans was about to join in with the jeering, when he noticed the puzzled look on Aizawa's face, who was staring intently at the ground where the ornament fell moments before.

"Jeans, did you see that piece of paper come out of the ornament?"

Sure enough, there was a folded-up square of paper lying next to the remains of the ballsack. Jeans quickly bent down to pick it up.

_Hi! This is the old King of Taint-lia who died. Remember me? Anyway, I just wanted to say that my illegitimate son and heir to the throne is Shota Aizawa. I could have just told someone that or given this note to someone before I died, but I decided to hide it in an intricately designed ballsack instead, because I'm a messy bitch who loves drama. Anyway,_

_Xoxo- Gossip King_

Jeans gasped when he read the slip of paper, pushing it into Aizawa's hands before the man could ask what it said.

Eraserhead scanned it over once and then a second time and then a third time, before the revelation finally seemed to dawn over him.

Aizawa had been the Christmas prince the whole time.

Jeans was about to get the attention of the rest of his colleagues, who were still mocking Allmight ("oh I'm the symbol of peace, I've got a huge asscrack and I love to destroy priceless artifacts!" "Detroit smash that ballsack, amirite?" being some of his personal favorite taunts), when he looked over at Aizawa. The color had completely drained from his face and he looked terrified.

"Eraserhead, what's wrong?"

Aizawa swallowed nervously before whispering back to Jeans.

"The reason I avoid the media, is because I actually have terrible stage fright. But if everyone knows I'm the Christmas prince, there's no way I'll be able to avoid performing in front of crowds. I don't think I can do this."

Jeans' heart broke at the sight of Aizawa so terrified. Just then, he had an idea.

"So you really would rather have no one know you're royalty."

Eraserhead nodded vigorously, which was all Jeans needed.

"Okay, give me that."

Without warning, he took the paper in Aizawa's hands, shoved it into his mouth and ate it. Eraserhead looked at him, the initial disgust on his face slowly fading into an expression of gratitude.

"Now no one will ever know."

Jeans mumbled as he chewed on the piece of paper.

"T-Thank you, Jeans. I don't know what to say. But what about your dream? I mean, you really could have had your royal fantasy?"

Jeans smiled and shook his head.

"Hey, I meant what I said. I don't want a prince, I want you. And if this makes you happy, then that's what I'll do. Plus, I'll get to live with the knowledge that I saved the Christmas prince. Even if I can't tell this story to other people, that's enough for me. Eating a piece of paper doesn't sound very smooth or heroic anyway, so it wouldn't fit with my image."

Aizawa grinned at him.

"You're something else, Joggers."

Jeans took his hand once more in his own, pleased with how comfortably Eraserhead's dry yet clammy fingers fit between his. He would really have to lend this man some lotion.

"So are you, Aizawa."

Aizawa scowled at him for a moment, but his expression softened when Jeans took his other hand into his own.

"So there's a 6 in 7 chance that you did not brush your teeth today, right?"

Aizawa looked down and smiled bashfully before responding,

"Maybeeeee,"

Jeans cursed himself for finding such a repulsive admission so cute.

He hovered there for a moment, his lips inches away from Aizawa's putrid mouth before hearing a shout come from the other side of the room.

"Come on just kiss already, this had been going on for forty-one cursed pages! Now 42 with the writer's stupid, completely unnecessary edits! Seriously, who actually enjoys reading asides? No one! For god's sake, stop breaking the fourth wall!"

James smiled at them, before sticking their own tongue back down Nomu's throat, who stood there passively accepting their loud, messy kisses.

Aizawa chuckled.

"I guess we should give the people what they want."

"This entire relationship is for James, after all."

Jeans smiled and fucking finally pressed his lips to Aizawa's.

It was a stinky kiss, but a nice one.

As Eraserhead wrapped his arms around Jeans' neck, pressing his sweaty armpits into his chest, Jeans felt as though everything was wrapping up perfectly.

The man in his arms may not have been a dashing monarch, he may have smelled like B.O., and they may not have been under the mistletoe, but this was the cheesiest, most romantic ending he never could have predicted.

Then, he remembered that he was actually there to write an article and had done no journalism during the story at all, throwing this premise completely to the wayside.

Oops, well plotholes and realism be damned, it was still a pretty solid ending.

After all, just as the writer foreshadowed, there were currently a Christmas prince's lips pressed against Jeans' mouth crotch.

THE END!


End file.
